Little Ms. Illicit

Illegality is in. The Stimulus bill isn’t working, and the gulf is drowned in oil.

What’s left to do? Make movies!

The TV show Weeds and new movie The Joneses star two women conducting their life just on the wrong side of legal, and loving it. These women, maybe 15 years ago, would have done things the right way, but are just kind of over it. One sells pot, and the other uses the pre-fab name of Mrs. Jones to sell…well, herself.
These new Sopranos of the American Sunbelt are interesting to a country in the midst of a recession, a country vaguely fascinated by the fact that there is now a black market in white suburbia. That there is an informal sector - the Hot Dog Vendor On the Corner sector - but with an asking price of $2,000, not $2. The type of profession where your boss doesn't chat with you by the water cooler but pulls up in a black limo and says, "Get in."
As U.S. suburbia gets broker and broker, the people living it will become more and more broken. 
Maybe Demi Moore’s chose her lifestyle because she thinks being a real Mrs. Jones might be boring, and Nancy, is, as Andy her brother in law says, just terrified of being ordinary. But eventually, emotions get the best of them. Ms. Jones ended her fake wifery and took up being a real one, and Nancy Botwin is...well...chingada.
A woman who started off as a soccer mom in the San Fernando Valley chased non-taxable money far enough down a rabbit’s hole to find, at the root of it, men who teach her that mota = money. The higher she ranks in the drug trade in Southern California, the more Latino her life becomes. She ends up baby mama to a drug kinpin-gone-politico in Tijuana, unable to leave the house and stuck in the strands of a real politik she doesn't understand. She is the hacienda wife of the hacendado landowner, nothing more, but gladly enough, nothing less.
Ms. Illicit’s 21st century America of Rich vs. Poor, of Get Yours, doesn’t look all that different from Latin America. The neighborhoods of the Nancy Botwins of the world, and the Joneses of the world, might soon be adding new steps to a popular tune in Latin America.
What wouldn’t Ms. Illicit do for love or money? Por la plata baila el mono – would the monkey dance for money? (Que si, que si! )